For Good (As Clear As Water)
by Jaida857
Summary: Seven years after Glinda's rise to power, a new threat enters Oz and puts the good witch and her people in danger. When Elphie hears of this she sends her daughter and her agents in the Gale Force to bring her old friend to safety. With Oz's ruler on the run with Elphie and her family, unknown enemies in hot pursuit and whispers of the Wizard's return, will Oz ever be safe again?
1. The First Letter

My dearest Elphaba,

I was your roommate for a good long time, as you well know. We spent many nights sharing our deepest secrets and desires, our hopes and fears, and I can't recall how many times I dragged you along with me as I snuck out of our dorm late at night to spy on Fiyero. I do, however, recall that one particular night where we hid crouching in those bushes in the middle of a horrendous rainstorm. Though I admit we were not outside for very long, my memory of your condition when we returned to our room is quite clear. You were positively soaked to the bone. Therefore, in my opinion, it isn't plausible that water could have melted you, wicked or not.

I know you have an awfully good explanation for lying to me and allowing me to believe my best friend to be dead. It wasn't until things had settled down from your "demise," the Wizard's departure and my new position as ruler over all of Oz that I allowed myself to sit down and mull things over in detail. I realized then that you must have known it would be best to disappear, or better yet, "die." We both knew that the people of Oz would not accept you back into this land peacefully, not after the Wizard spent so long destroying your reputation. I am truly and deeply sorry that I did not stand up for you sooner, but in the end we're both alive, the Wizard is gone and you're free to live your life outside of Oz. As I promised you, I have done nothing to try to clear your name, however much I wish I could.

Boq came to see me the other day. It seems he has been having the most terrible feelings of regret over his ruthless actions that he believes aided in your death. He explained to me what happened with dear Nessarose (bless her soul) and I figured you must have turned him to tin to allow him to survive without a heart. I wish I could find a way to change him back, but as we both know, spells cannot be reversed. But there is some good news yet involving magic! My attempts at decoding the many mysteries of the Grimmerie are going well. You remember the Green Elixir? It seems it is not from our world, and so (though this may not have been the greatest foresight I have ever displayed) I took the tiniest of drinks and found a few rogue spells become clear before my eyes. Luckily for me, one of such spells was a spell for clear vision, which, with a little personal modification, allows me to better understand the strange language of this fascinating book.

This brings me to my next point, the book and its origins. As you know, the Wizard brought it over with him from his homeland, but it was not all that he brought. Maybe you caught my hint earlier? The Green Elixir. I recognized it the day you left with Fiyero, though I didn't fully understand it until I confronted the Wizard the day you left. He had a bottle as well, and that leads me to a single conclusion... the Wizard is your father. Your mother was having an affair with the man who would later order your execution. I know this cannot be easy for you to read my beloved friend, but I hope now you understand the true meaning behind your powers. You are a child of both worlds. It gives you the ability to perform magic with no formal study, to read the spells within the pages of the Grimmerie, and it is the Green Elixir that your mother drank excessively that caused your... unusual skin colour. If nothing else, let this truth serve as clarity to the questions surrounding your life.

I suppose that unless you should return some day, most of this information will be of little use to you. I just want you to know that you are not forgotten, and I feel no malice towards you for any deeds you have committed in the past, whether with good intentions or wickedness in mind. I meant what I said in the castle, meant it with all my heart. It is because of you that I am who I am today. You may not have been my only friend, but you were the only one that mattered. But then again, you were always more than a friend to me. You were my sister- you ARE my sister, and you always will be. It may be that we will never meet again, not in this lifetime, and if that is to be so then all I ask is for you to know this. I will remember you and your brave sacrifices for the rest of my life. I will remember the times we shared, the times that seemed much too short but I am eternally grateful for. Ozspeed, dear sister...

Wishing you all the best, Glinda


	2. Author's Note

**Hello fellow Wicked fans! This is just a note for the few people who have read and favorited this story already.**

**I said that I may continue it if I got enough requests or if I got any good ideas. Well yesterday I was hit with what I thought would be a brilliant idea for a fanfiction that could continue quite nicely after Glinda's letter.**

**Anyway, I'm changing the name and synopsis of this story to better suit the overall plot line. I'll do my disclaimer here: I don't own Wicked or it's characters, credit to Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman where it's due. **

**I'll wait until later today to publish the next chapter and change the name so the few who favorited it can read this first and not get confused when a random new story is in their favorites. **

**I think that's all for now. Thanks for reading!**


	3. The Facade of a Witch

**I know that this will seem to take a much different route than the first chapter may have suggested, but in the end this is what I came up with. This fanfiction will be completely musicalverse, as I am only just reading Son of a Witch right now and wouldn't want to get anything mixed up. Enjoy!**

* * *

**~~Seven years later~~**

"Damn spells, all sounding like one another," Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West, mumbled in irritation, scratching out yet another set of strange symbols she had scribbled on the page earlier before tossing the entire sheet away. She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyelids, taking a moment to clear her head and start over, but after a few minutes of silence she scowled and began pacing the room, deep in thought, absentmindedly whispering spells under her breath and causing a chair to go flying across the room.

As naturally skilled as the witch was with magic, and however intently she had studied the Grimmerie before leaving it to Glinda, she still could not wrap her head around a simple transformation spell! Sure, she could recall the spell she used to turn Fiyero _into_ a scarecrow, but using the same spell again would hardly make a difference, and since there was nothing she could do to reverse it, she had to be creative. So far all she had managed to do was give him his regular hair back as well as a few other... useful devices, on occasion. Still, it wasn't good enough. It was her fault that he was the way he was, and Oz be damned if she was going to let him stay that way. He may say he didn't mind, but she knew him better than he gave her credit for. When living with a person for seven years and having little other contact with humans, it was impossible not to learn their mind inside and out.

Elphaba halted in her pacing when she heard a faint knocking on the window of her study. Her head whipped around and to her delight she saw Chistery, her faithful friend and messenger. She hurried over to open the window and invite him inside, allowing him to get comfortable before he delivered the weekly newspaper to the green woman.

"Thank you my friend," she said in anticipation, excited to learn of the latest news in Oz and the condition of her dear Glinda.

The witch had not seen her friend since the day she faked her own death and went into hiding with Fiyero. Though she had been pleasantly surprised by the letter Chistery had delivered three weeks later, it changed very little. She had responded as best she could, making it absolutely clear that she could never return while still making it known she felt the same way her friend did. It broke her heart knowing that things had to be the way they were, but thanks to the Wizard- or her father, though she refused to think of him as such- it was unlikely to change. The citizens of Oz still knew her as the Wicked Witch. A label such as that had proved difficult to lose.

Turning her full attention to the paper in her hands, Elphaba flipped through the many pages of meaningless gossip until she found an interview that had been conducted with the Good Witch herself.

_Ruling over the land of Oz has certainly been a privilege I never expected to be granted during my university years. My roommate and I would chat for hours over the "what-if's" in life, and I'm sure leading this fair land come up somewhere, but it always seemed like such a distant dream. While it is not quite as easy as I imagined, I am every bit as happy and proud to be your ruler._

Elphaba chuckled quietly and shook her head. What Glinda forgot to mention, and for good reason, was that it had been Elphie who did most of the talking when it came to ruling Oz. It was one of the subjects that the green-skinned girl could go on about for hours on end, an unusual change to Glinda's usual chatter.

_True, I do miss those days. They were some of the best of my life... such fond memories I hold of my days as dear old Shiz, with my darling friends..._

The rest of the interview went on about politics, mostly, with a little fashion advice thrown in at one point. That gave Elphaba a good laugh. Some people never changed...

* * *

Glinda, formally known as Lady Glinda, the Good Witch and ruler over the land of Oz (Your Ozness sounded much too formal and distant for her taste), collapsed onto her extravagant bed and huffed twice. Politics could be _ever _so taxing on a person. Being a public figure was one thing, one thing the woman could handle quite simply. Being in charge whilst attempting to keep up her public image was a very different matter. Fortunately for the witch, she had had years of practice in her school days, university and otherwise, in keeping up appearances regardless of how she truly felt. Such skills were put to the ultimate test the day she thought her best friend had been killed. She had put on a brave face, smiled to all the citizens of Oz and pretended to _celebrate. _Of course after she realized the truth, and received the confirmation letter from Elphaba herself, the pain was significantly easier to handle. Knowing you could never see your best friend- your sister- ever again while the rest of Oz rejoiced her death and cursed her name was hard enough. Knowing she was still alive, somewhere with Fiyero, hopefully happy, took off a little stress.

When faced with an audience, the good witch was all smiles and happy-happy and la-de-da. Behind her bedroom doors, she could be a much different woman. The only person she had ever allowed to see such a side of her was Elphie, and now with her gone, every time she let down her guard she was alone. From the vernacular of the first and only letter her friend had had delivered to her, it was clear that staying in touch wouldn't be possible. Too much security and risk of being found out. Both woman knew that if one single letter was intercepted by the Gale Force it would not only put Elphaba's life in danger once again, it would threaten Glinda's position on the throne as well. How would the people trust her again if they knew she was in league with the Wicked Witch?

The very thought of such a title made Glinda shiver and roll her eyes in disgust. Elphaba was never wicked. Perhaps she thought so herself, after Fiyero's capture, but Glinda didn't buy it for a moment. Her friend was distraught with the death of her sister and learning the truth about Doctor Dillamond. Fiyero was the final straw to make her lose what little faith she still held in others. If her spell hadn't worked and Glinda hadn't come to talk some since into her... Oz knows what may have happened to her sanity.

A sudden knock on the door caused Glinda to regain her perfect composure. She folded her hands neatly into her lap and sat up straight and attentive on the edge of her bed.

"Enter," she called, a welcoming smile falling effortlessly into place as one of her personal guards entered the room and bowed to the woman.

"Lady Glinda, Master Boq of Munchkinland requests a private audience," he reported. Glinda's smile brightened into true delight and she jumped up eagerly from her bed, only just remembering to hold herself properly as a lady and ruler should.

"Of course, see him in at once," she ordered, waiting until the guard had departed before letting out a childish squeal and bouncing on her toes, causing her ridiculously lavish rosy-pink gown to bounce along with her. Boq was still made of tin, but of course that didn't matter to her. He was a lovely conversationalist and complimented her fiercely, which she could hardly resist. He had become a trustworthy friend, though he still blamed himself for Elphaba. The good witch deeply wished she could pull him out of that self-loathing and finally tell him the truth, but for everyone's sake it was better to keep him in the dark. As far as Glinda knew, only Chistery still knew of her darling friend's whereabouts as he had been the one to deliver her letter all those years ago.

Boq was also useful in her reign. Every so often when he would visit, between their casual social remarks and his never-ending stream of "You look lovely today Miss Glinda," or, "Is that a new dress? It really brings out your eyes," he would bring her news of the underground network that spread throughout Oz. As fair and just a ruler as she was, there were always going to be those that disagreed with her methods and decisions. Oh sure, a few people or Animals here or there were hardly going to threaten her government, but when the numbers started to grow she had to put her feelings aside and take charge, putting the peoples minds at ease and extinguishing the problem the best way she saw fit. If she let such resistance grow, the people who defied her would soon realize that their numbers were great enough to take on the Gale Force and the witch, even with all her power. With Boq's help she could identify growing rebellion before it became a real problem and make sure things settled down before someone got hurt. While he may not have been the most inconspicuous person to be slinking through the shadows, hearing whispers here and there throughout the land, he knew where to look and who to talk to to get the information he needed. It also helped that few outside of the Emerald City knew of his association with the good witch.

Though it was a wonder _how_, considering how loud he was when he walked!

"Lady Glinda," he bowed to her as he entered the room, his joints squeaking as if he hadn't had a good oil in days.

"Master Boq," she curtsied, staying in character for another few seconds until she burst into a fit of giggles at their little game and ran as fast as her gown would allow to embrace him. He couldn't hug her back, not exactly, but he did wrap his tin arms around as best he could until she pulled back with a genuine grin on her delicate, picturesque face.

"Oh, it is good to see you again Boq!" she beamed, half-dragging him over to the gigantic couch that sat alongside the balcony, large enough to fit at least a dozen people with extra leg room. The two of them sat next to one another, the tin man stretching out his limbs after his long journey.

"It is wonderful to see you as well, Miss Glinda," he replied, that strange metallic smile appearing on his angular face. If it had been anyone but her closest friends, social etiquette would have required her to correct him in her title, but this was no formal meeting. This was two old friends from Shiz catching up (as well as exchanging valuable political information of any growing resistance).

"Would you like me to have a maid fetch you some oil?" she inquired, taking note of the thin lines of rust forming on his body.

"I'm afraid I can't stay for long," he explained, much to her disappointment. "I know it's been too long since we had time to speak as friends, but I must be off as soon as possible. I come to deliver some increasingly important news."

Glinda could sense something in his voice. An underlying tone of urgency, even... panic? Her brow scrunched in confusion and she nodded once for him to continue.

"Last we spoke, the underground resistance was waning in numbers. There were no more than a few hundred spread sparsely throughout Oz, mostly through the Vinkus and eastern Munchkinland, and hardly posing a threat to your rule. I was headed back to the Emerald City two weeks ago until I heard a rumour, just a whisper really. What caught my attention wasn't the usual talk of an attack or infiltration. No, I overheard a few Arjiki speaking of the Wizard."

Glinda's breath caught in her throat at the mention of the tyrant, the man who had driven Elphaba into hiding and destroyed the lives of so many innocent Animals. Few spoke of the man in the many years since his departure, at least when Glinda was around. She never painted him in a negative light in public, though she did make it clear on occasion that she thought many of his methods had been... dated.

"What were they saying about him?" she asked cautiously, even more worried than if he had told her there was an attack about to be launched.

"I know it sounds crazy, but... they were talking about him coming back. At least I think that's what I heard. I could have been mistaken!"

The witch visibly paled and she stood up on shaky legs, taking a few unsteady steps forward and beginning to carefully pace in front of Boq.

"Will Oz never be rid of that man?" she muttered, almost to quiet for the tin man to hear. She stopped after a few minutes, standing with her arms folded and tapping her perfectly manicured fingers against her left arm, all smiles gone and replaced by the serious and calculating gaze of a ruler. "Anything else?"

"I could only hear snatches of the rest of their conversation. I think they knew someone was listening. I heard them saying that his government needed to return for the good of Oz, or else..."

"Or else what?" Glinda nearly snapped, throwing her arms into the air and tapping her foot instead. Boq frowned but indulged her.

"Or else they would go ahead with the attack."

"_The_ attack? You mean they already have one planned?"

"I don't know Glinda. I'm so sorry, but they left after that and I couldn't exactly follow them. There weren't enough people around to remain inconspicuous. I spent the next day around the outskirts of the Oakhair Forest before I started back here. I asked every person and Animal I met on the way if they had any clues, but they either didn't know anything or skirted around the subject and hurried away."

Glinda sighed, closing her eyes and pressed two fingers to each temple, taking several deep breaths. Boq watched with unfeigned interest as the ruler of Oz went through a complete outward transformation. Within thirty seconds she went from appearing stressed, anxious and many even panicked to peaceful and able to handle any news with a level head.

"Thank you for the information Boq," she acknowledged, going to meet him as he stood up to clasp his tin hands firmly. "Time and time again you've proven yourself to be a reliable friend and confidant."

With the serious issues out of the way, Glinda underwent another quick transformation, changing back into the girl he knew from Shiz with a bubbly smile and a hop in her step.

"I hope I can see you again soon!" she chimed, leading him to the door to embrace him one more time. "Ask the guard to swing by the workshop when he escorts you out and grab as much oil as you need, on me."

"Thank you for your hospitality Miss Glinda," he responded. "It is no wonder they always call you Glinda the Good."

"Oh stop it you," she giggled, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as to not cause her own hand any damage. "Goodbye for now, old friend."

With a final nod and bow, the tin man vacated her room and lightly closed the door behind him. It was only then that Glinda's entire facade dropped and she collapsed to her knees right there on the floor, running a shaky hand through her perfectly styled golden curls.

"Oh Elphie, I do wish you were here right now," she whispered, her eyes stinging with the tears that were beginning to form. "I don't know how much longer I can do this without you."


	4. The Looking Glass - Under Her Spell

**This chapter is going to be a little shorter than the others, but I didn't want to drag it out for the sake of more words. The next one should be longer. Enjoy!**

* * *

**~~Several weeks later~~**

_"Am te emasu me am te, am te emasu me am te..."_

Elphaba chanted low and rhythmically, her eyes closed and her arms twisting this way and that through the air as she recited the spell from memory, or at least as best as she could remember. The air in the room was filled with an eerie sense of presentiment, and had anyone else been in her presence at the time they would have been inclined to hightail it out of there as swiftly as possible. The witch herself was affected very little in that way, if only because she was the one behind the incantation. The feelings she had were quite different indeed.

The power surged through her limbs, zipping its way through her very core and leaving her exhausted and gasping for air, though she would not let up. This was much too important to stop early on account of her being tired. When tampering with the very fabric of the universe to rip a hole in the air in front of you, there wasn't any margin for error. Creating a looking glass with supplies would have been simpler, but with nothing but the half-remembered spells in ones mind and the raw magical ability deep inside, all it took was a little distraction, a little blip in concentration to create the Oz-equivalent of a nuclear explosion.

At least that was what Elphie had read about in the Grimmerie. She had whipped up a looking glass to spy on that Dorothy girl when she came gallivanting to the witches' castle, but that had been with the spell sitting right there in front of her. There had never been an urgent enough cause to attempt such a risky spell again until the news the green-skinned woman had just received...

_"Tema tema am te emasu..."_

But the stamina one needed to perform such a spell! The witch was amazed she possessed it after so many years of using nothing but the simplest of little tricks with a few more complicated transformation spells thrown in here and there over the years.

_"Am te emasu me am te nahte... am te emasu me am te nahte!"_

The chanting grew to a sudden halt and the witches' arms grew still, holding perfectly in place as if she were a statue covered with drying moss and a worn black gown. Her eyes peeked open ever so tentatively, barely more than slits as she dared open them no further, not until she was sure the spell had either worked as it should have or done no harm.

"Sweet Oz," she whispered, carefully lowering her arms and straightening her body to look at the spectacle in front of her.

The scene in front of her was foggy, enough that she needed to take a few steps forward and lean into the vision to make anything out. Her mind was on nothing else but the looking glass, the apparition holding her in a vice grip as she watched the Emerald City itself through the portal.

"I can't believe I have that power... after all these years," she breathed, watching as the image changed, travelling through the sea of vibrant green buildings to the Emerald City palace, where Glinda the Good Witch herself was perched on her balcony high above the city, giving what appeared to be another standard speech on goodness or happiness or something of the sort.

"What?!" hissed Elphaba, her eyes narrowing and her fists clenching until her nails dug painfully into her palms, though she scarcely noticed. "That can't be right. I know what I... but that means it hasn't- Chistery!"

The witch screamed the last part, her attention totally diverted as she whipped her head behind her. That was all it took for her concentration on the spell to break and the looking glass exploded in front of her.

Because the spell had already been in place, the explosion wasn't altogether dangerous, though it did send the woman flying back across the room into her bookshelf, causing several volumes to plummet to the ground around her, narrowly missing her head. She moaned briefly after the impact but quickly got to her feet to open the door of her study and allow Chistery to hobble in, looking rattled from the commotion in the room.

"Is Elphie okay?" he inquired in his clipped tone, never fully managing to grasp the powers of speech.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted in a hurry. "That's not important. You were right my friend, but it hasn't happened yet. We're not too late to save her. I know I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but there's too much at risk. It's time."

"Time?" Chistery repeated, watching the witch pace the room distractedly, her eyes scanning for something in the mess after the explosion.

"We have to do this now. Find her. She'll be in the field right now. Tell her that it's time, that Glinda needs us. She must go the Emerald City and find the others. And make sure Glinda has the book! Once she's gone, find Fiyero and bring him back here. I need to prepare... we don't have much time. Now fly Chistery, fly!"

The monkey nodded once and dashed out of the room, leaving the witch behind to deal with the mess.

"I just hope we get there on time..." she mumbled, shaking her head to clear it and going to work.

* * *

A short ways away, a young girl sang in a field of wildflowers, her voice carrying over the shores of Restwater. Animals and animals alike stopped to listen to her voice, entranced by this strange beauty, ensnared by the melodic narrative she was reciting.

The words, the tone, the eloquence of her chant... and then suddenly, the waters began to shift. The raft of ducks resting on the banks took flight, the young elk froze with an eye fixed on the stranger and the rest of the audience either fled or fell under her spell.

She did not know what it was that she was singing, only that she had heard it sung from someone else a hundred times over. She had every word memorized, every pause or hesitation, every breath. She knew that when she sang she attracted listeners, though she herself could not decide whether it was the song, her voice or her elegance, even at such a young age.

When the song finished, every Animal and animal that remained blinked a few times, rose from where they were sitting or squatting and departed from the scene. The girl looked over the water shimmering in the morning sunlight, a delicate smile painted on her face, and wished that some of her admirers would stay when the song finished.

Her wish was half granted. There was one Animal who appeared from the west, a familiar monkey flying in on the wind, headed straight for the girl. Normally she would have been pleased, but as he came nearer she saw his face, saw his urgency, and knew without even hearing it that everything was about to change.

It was time to help the witch.


End file.
